City of Secrets by Kelli Stanley Page B

Come back in a couple hours.”
    Miranda held the woman’s eyes until the blonde made a noise and sat back down. The brunette took a step forward.
    â€œYou—you here with the cops, or what?”
    Miranda shook her head. “The bulls want me out. Threatened my license.”
    The blonde leaned back in the folding chair, robe gaping open, most of her breast showing. “Then why don’t you listen to ’em, girlie?”
    Miranda turned to Fred and made a motion with her head for him to leave. He withdrew, face red, last glimpse of the blonde. Miranda shut the door behind her, listened for the click.
    â€œI’m here to help Pandora Blake.”
    The blonde snorted while the brunette shook her head. “She’s beyond help. Go home, lady. Nobody over here asked for you. Pandora can’t use your goddamn charity, and Lucinda don’t want it.”
    Miranda took out a Chesterfield, slowly, deliberately, lighting it with the Majorette. She leaned against the door, watching the women, and blew a smoke ring. The blonde looked up at her, then dealt herself another hand of cards.
    The brunette was staring again. “Wait a minute—I know you. You’re the one who used to be an escort, right?”
    She snapped her fingers, turned excitedly toward the blonde, who was trying to ignore both of them. “Sheila—she’s OK. She got fired from Sally Rand yesterday. I heard the boys talkin’ about it.”
    Sheila dragged her eyes up to look at the younger woman, then back to Miranda. She glanced down, noticed her robe, and nonchalantly pulled the sides together. Yawned.
    â€œSo you’re the broad who used to be an escort. Sound too high-class for the job, but I guess you didn’t work the corner of Turk and Eddy, huh?” She rubbed out the Camel on the top of the card table, then flicked it with two fingers to the floor.
    Miranda didn’t answer. The brunette took another step closer.
    â€œWhy do you wanna speak to Lucinda?”
    â€œBecause she knew Pandora. Not many people did.”
    The blonde snorted again. “Bullshit—I knew Pandora. I know who killed her, too.”
    She looked up at Miranda expectantly while the brunette’s mouth opened, then shut.
    Miranda took out her wallet, withdrew five singles and another five. The blonde watched her with narrowed eyes.
    â€œLoretta, you should leave. I got business with this lady.”
    The brunette turned a frightened look on Sheila and gathered up an old Photoplay magazine spread out by the makeup bottles. Stuck her bare feet in a couple of ratty house shoes propped against the tattered dressing screen and slipped through the door, giving Sheila and Miranda last looks before shutting it.
    Miranda dropped some ashes on the floor. “What do you know, Sheila?”
    â€œHow much you willing to pay to hear it?”
    â€œHow much do you want to stay alive?”
    The woman opened her mouth and laughed, showing off a few missing teeth in the back. Got up to sit on Loretta’s stool, studied her face in the mirror. Pinched her cheeks.
    â€œI gotta go on soon, so don’t waste my time. Nobody’s gonna off me. I’m not a goddamn filthy Jew.”
    â€œWas Pandora Jewish?”
    Sheila started to rub Pan-Cake makeup on her forehead, her skin darkening to a tanned bronze. “I ain’t tellin’ you a goddamn thing, lady, unless you come across with some scratch.”
    Miranda dropped the stick on the floor, crushed it with her pump. “You can either tell me or the cops. They’ll call you up as a witness if you know anything. I’ll give you five dollars, they’ll slap you around. Your call.”
    The blonde eyed her in the mirror. “What I got is worth fifty.”
    Miranda’s mouth twisted. “What you got, sister, isn’t worth five bucks.”
    The blonde rose in anger, facing Miranda. “Listen here, bitch—”
    â€œNo, you